The Banshee and the Blue Box
by bananannabeth
Summary: The TARDIS finds Beacon Hills, and Stiles and Lydia find the TARDIS. Too bad the Doctor was aiming for New York.


**a.n. i have no idea what this is, my god it's so self indulgent. but i really loved the doctor who christmas special and stydia have just consumed my entire heart and soul and… i don't know, it's christmas break, i'm allowed to write things that don't make much sense. i hope someone gets some joy from this little fic, anyway. it's set immediately before the 2016 christmas special for doctor who and pretty much anywhere from season three on in the teen wolf timeline.**

* * *

"What the hell is that?"

Lydia blinks at the tall, blue box standing in the middle of the school parking lot. It definitely wasn't there when they left that afternoon, and she's sort of at a loss as to how it could have appeared in the hours since.

She doesn't have an answer, and so Stiles is left to just repeat his question, slightly louder this time. "What the _hell_ is that?!"

"A Police Public Call Box," Lydia says flatly.

"Yeah, I can read," Stiles says, unimpressed. He flings a hand up to the words printed in block lettering at the top of the box, illuminated by the light bulb sitting on top. "But only some of those words have meaning to me."

Lydia presses her lips together and frowns. "Well, context suggests -"

"Context?" he interrupts, sounding as exasperated as she feels. "There are no contextual clues for this, Lydia. It's a frickin' giant blue box that appeared in the middle of the parking lot, and _you_ found it."

"Okay," she snaps, turning to face him. Her hair flies out over her shoulders and Stiles steps back from her glare, bumping into the Jeep behind them. "If you don't want to listen to my theory, _you're_ the one whose Dad is a Sheriff, what do _you_ know about Police Call Boxes?"

Stiles gapes at her, jaw working as he tries to come up with a snappy reply. He falters under her glare, though, and just waves weakly towards the box before scratching at his cheek and averting his gaze. "Nothing. What's your theory?"

"You use it to call the police, obviously."

Stiles blinks, putting his palms on the hood of the Jeep and leaning back. "Yes, _and_?"

"And what? I haven't exactly had a chance to get a closer look at it, have I?"

Stiles rolls his eyes skyward before closing them and muttering, "Oh, my god…"

He opens his eyes just in time to see Lydia spinning on her heel and stomping towards the box, because she is not going to put up with his attitude.

"Lydia! Lydia, wait, what are you -" He cuts himself off, swears under his breath and chases after her, dropping the volume of his voice to a fierce whisper. "Lydia! Stop!"

She ignores him, marching right up to the box and tilting her head to read the sign on the door. She wants to smirk when Stiles comes to a stop beside her, but she keeps her attention focused on the blue box in front of them.

The sign isn't particularly illuminating. There are instructions for making an emergency call, and when Lydia tugs gently on the handle on the sign it swings open to reveal an old fashioned phone.

"Great, we've got a closer look," Stiles says, "And now we can take this information, do a bit of research and -"

He's interrupted by the main door swinging open and an old man sticking his head out, startling them both so badly they scream and jump backwards. Somehow, instinctively, Lydia ends up clutching Stiles's hand, her fingers clenched tightly between his.

The man stares at them, thick eyebrows raised so high they almost meet his grey hair. For a moment, the three of them are absolutely silent, and then he says, "This doesn't taste anything like New York."

"This doesn't - taste - what?" Stiles blabbers.

"This isn't New York," Lydia says.

The man frowns at them before stepping completely out of the box and shutting the door behind himself. He's wearing a black three piece suit, and as he spins in a circle she spots a red tartan pattern on the lining. It goes with his Scottish accent.

"No, it's not, is it?" he muses. He lifts a finger into the air and stares intently up at the stars. "Where have we gone instead?"

"You're in -" Lydia starts to answer, but he cuts her off.

"No, wait, let me guess. Well, not guess, it won't be a guess, I'll know the answer. That's what makes it clever."

"What - _Who are you_?" Stiles asks.

The man doesn't look at him as he answers. "I'm the Doctor."

Lydia glances sideways at Stiles, who shrugs both his shoulders. She folds her arms over her chest and says, "The Doctor of what?"

"Lots of things," the man replies absentmindedly, before declaring, "We're in _California_! Well, that's closer than the last attempt, I'll give you that."

Lydia is used to weird things, at this point. She is well acquainted with the supernatural and she's used to being terrified by strange creatures and humanoid beings who want to hurt her. This man is definitely strange, but he doesn't seem dangerous.

Stiles, however, is still quite firmly on the defensive. "What are you doing here?"

"What am _I_ doing here?" the man asks, sounding almost offended. "Well, I'm not even supposed to be here, am I? I didn't _intend_ to land in California, I was aiming for New York. Weren't you listening?"

Stiles is definitely offended as he snaps, "What do you mean, you didn't mean to _land_ in California?"

"I mean exactly what I said, I was aiming for New York." The man turns his attention to Lydia. "Is he always this slow?"

"Hey!"

"How did you get here?" Lydia asks, deciding to ignore the man's insult and Stiles's glare.

"Ah, that's sort of - long and complicated, you wouldn't be interested," he says offhandedly. He pulls something out of his pocket and waves it at them. It lights up and emits a strange buzzing noise, and the two of them flinch back instinctively. The man releases a button and the noise and light both stop. He holds the stick - wand? reader? scanner, of some type, maybe - up in the air and appears to read it before sticking it back in his inside coat pocket. "A much more interesting question is what are _you_ doing here?"

"We go to school here," Lydia says quickly.

But the man doesn't buy it for a second. "At night? Alone?" His eyes flicker from the locked school doors to the Jeep behind them to where their shoulders are pressed together. "What were you looking for?"

"We weren't looking for anything," Stiles says defensively, positioning himself so that his shoulder is in front of Lydia's. "And you still haven't told us who you are or how you got here."

"But I have." He looks genuinely confused, but at their blank expressions he heaves a great sigh and declares, "I'm the Doctor, and I got here in my TARDIS."

"Your what?" Lydia asks.

"The box?" Stiles guesses.

"Ah, maybe not as slow as I thought," the Doctor says with a smirk. He strokes the side of the blue box lovingly. "Not quite sure why she brought us _here,_ exactly, but she always has her reasons…"

"But that's a - a police box, you can't travel in it," Lydia says.

"It just _looks like_ a police box," the Doctor says, voice lowering. "It's actually something much more magical."

"Magical?"

The Doctor opens his mouth to answer, but is interrupted by the revving of a motorbike engine. Lydia turns her head to see Scott peeling into the parking lot on his bike. He skids to a stop beside them, kicking the stand down and sliding off the seat in one fluid movement. When he takes his helmet off his eyes are their usual, human, soft brown.

"Guys, are you okay? I heard -" He stops when he sees the Doctor, who's looking at him quizzically. "Uh. Who's this?"

"He calls himself the Doctor," Stiles supplies, heavy on the sarcasm.

"Teenagers, so sarcastic," the Doctor mumbles. And then, "You _are_ teenagers, aren't you?"

Stiles scrunches his face up in disbelief and Lydia answers slowly, "Yes."

"Right. Thought so. Anyway, like your friend said, I'm the Doctor. Who are you?"

Scott looks to Lydia for guidance. She widens her eyes and shrugs one shoulder as if to say, _up to you, Alpha_. He swallows and turns back to the Doctor. "I'm, uh, Scott."

"Nice to meet you, uh, Scott," the Doctor replies. "Now, you said you heard something that led you here, and yet it took you this long to arrive, which means you must have been quite a distance away."

Scott's face drops, Stiles looks up sharply and Lydia feels her entire body tense.

The Doctor seems oblivious to their discomfort as he continues on, "So you must have remarkably good hearing, then."

"Uh… yeah…" Scott says, hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Lydia tries to change the topic. "You were telling us about your TARDIS."

"About how it brought me here instead of New York," he says, not taking his eyes off Scott. "Which of course has a little bit to do with the temporal disturbances around the city, not all of which are my fault, and which I am on my way to repair, I'll have you know."

"What?" Stiles says in a whisper, and Lydia reaches for his hand again, squeezing it briefly before letting go.

"But I think it also has to do with this town in particular. Tell me, has anything weird been happening here lately?"

The three teenagers share a look before Stiles huffs out a laugh. "Weird? What do you mean, weird? Everything's perfectly fine and normal, _we're_ perfectly fine and normal…"

Once again, the Doctor looks unconvinced. He takes a step forwards and the three of them step back in sync. He stops, smoothing his features out as he looks at each of them in turn. He then spins around to survey the school. Lydia watches his entire posture change as he reads the plaque at the front.

"Beacon Hills," he breathes, and when he turns back to them his eyes are wild. "I'm in Beacon Hills! No wonder it didn't taste right, this entire town is one giant magnet for weird."

"No wonder you showed up, then," Stiles deadpans.

The Doctor points at him, and he quickly snaps his mouth shut. Lydia tries not to shiver as he moves his arm to point at her, instead. "The TARDIS found Beacon Hills, and you found the TARDIS."

She keeps her spine straight and her chin high. "I don't know what you -"

"Hush. It's fine. This is a practice run. Timing's not quite right, yet. I've still got a few things I have to sort out… another ginger I have to see before I get back to you," he says, as if all of that makes perfect sense. "But you know how to find me, now, so. Call if you need me. Or scream, I suppose, is the more accurate term."

If Scott and Stiles didn't each grab an elbow, Lydia would have stumbled back in shock. "What?"

"Now, onto New York. Or, as close to New York as we can get," the Doctor says, turning with a flourish of his coat and stepping back through the door of the blue box.

He sticks an arm out to wave goodbye before slamming the door shut behind himself, too quick for Lydia to get a look inside.

"What is he doing?" Scott asks, completely lost.

"He said that's how he got here, in that box," Stiles answers.

"What? But it's just a -" Scott cocks his head to the side. "What _is_ that thing?"

Without warning, the box emits a strange buzzing, whirring sound and begins to pulse, whipping up a wind and fading intermittently until it disappears entirely. Lydia gapes at the spot where it had been sitting just moments earlier.

"What just happened?" she asks.

Scott is staring ahead, dumbstruck, and Stiles's jaw has dropped. "I have absolutely no idea."

Lydia blinks a few times, trying to make sense of the questions buzzing through her brain. She says quietly, "I can't believe he called me a ginger."

Stiles laughs, and it makes her smile. "Just when I think this town can't get any weirder…"

"Should we ask Deaton about this?" Scott asks when he finds his voice.

"Definitely," Stiles says, pulling the keys to the Jeep from his pocket. "Let's go find out who 'the Doctor' really is."

Lydia nods and climbs into the passenger seat of the Jeep, keeping an eye on the spot where the blue box had been until the school parking lot is out of sight. When she turns to look out the windshield she sees Scott riding his bike in front of them and Stiles watching her from the driver's side, and her nerves calm.

"He was weird, right?" she asks, just to break the tension.

Stiles smiles, and she smiles back. "He was _really_ weird. What sort of person calls themselves 'the Doctor', anyway?"

Lydia's definitely going to ask him that, next time.


End file.
